The Path of Delusion
Words like marbles drop
From red paper lips
In a white mask of scorn.
A laugh like a needle
Grows, magnifies,
Until all the world can hear your shame.
Little snakes come in the night,
Slipping and sliding their way inside your mind,
Their hissing little tongues whispering
Treacherous lies.
Each journey through the halls of school
Is torture,
The walls bending and melting to
Trap you,
Confine you,
Tossing you high in the air
And watching you burn as you fall out of orbit
And hit the ground in a smoldering mass of resentment and tears.
"They will pay," you swear.
"They will pay for the cruel knives
That set in my heart.
They will pay."
You are sneaky and secret and
Mad with revenge,
And you plan the downfall of each one.
You watch as they cry, jus like you once did,
Hiding in bathroom stalls
Surrounded by graffiti and the smell of bleach
In their noses and swollen red eyes.
You love it, you crave it,
This feeling of final control
And its not til years later,
When your hands are cuffed
And your tongue is tied,
That you see the mistake of wanting more.
And the first thing you say,
With your eyes on the floor,
"I always told them they'd pay."
From red paper lips
In a white mask of scorn.
A laugh like a needle
Grows, magnifies,
Until all the world can hear your shame.
Little snakes come in the night,
Slipping and sliding their way inside your mind,
Their hissing little tongues whispering
Treacherous lies.
Each journey through the halls of school
Is torture,
The walls bending and melting to
Trap you,
Confine you,
Tossing you high in the air
And watching you burn as you fall out of orbit
And hit the ground in a smoldering mass of resentment and tears.
"They will pay," you swear.
"They will pay for the cruel knives
That set in my heart.
They will pay."
You are sneaky and secret and
Mad with revenge,
And you plan the downfall of each one.
You watch as they cry, jus like you once did,
Hiding in bathroom stalls
Surrounded by graffiti and the smell of bleach
In their noses and swollen red eyes.
You love it, you crave it,
This feeling of final control
And its not til years later,
When your hands are cuffed
And your tongue is tied,
That you see the mistake of wanting more.
And the first thing you say,
With your eyes on the floor,
"I always told them they'd pay."